


together dancing cheek to cheek

by icanthelpbut_love_you



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Magnus and Alec being ridiculously in love as always, POV Magnus Bane, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthelpbut_love_you/pseuds/icanthelpbut_love_you
Summary: Alec pulls Magnus suddenly flush against him andoh. His husband is amenace.He’s clearly been practicing, though Magnus can’t think when in the world he would have found the time, stifling actual giggles at the hilarious mental image of Alec spinning across the training room with a reluctant and very uncomfortable Jace.If Magnus thought that Alec would stop catching him off-guard once they were married, even for a few minutes, he was sorely mistaken. The fact that Magnus doesn’twantto stop being surprised by Alexander is neither here nor there.





	together dancing cheek to cheek

**Author's Note:**

> If we don’t get a wedding dance I will personally fight the writers. That is all.
> 
> Title is from ‘Cheek to Cheek’ by Fred Astaire (ye olde classic wedding song)

“May I have this dance?”

It’s with unsteady legs that Magnus steps forward to take Alec’s proffered hand, moving as though in a trance to rest his other hand on Alec’s shoulder, Brother Zachariah’s words pronouncing them one still echoing in his ears.

“Of course,” he murmurs belatedly, aware that the permission is more than obvious in his near-desperate hold. But he’s unable to summon anything witty, or even just less redundant, to say in the face of the all-consuming love he sees in Alec’s expression. It takes root, steady and warm in his own chest, stoking the feeling of overwhelming adoration already burning there and making moisture prick behind his eyes.

They’re surrounded by all the people they care about, looking on with assorted expressions of pride and, in many cases, more than a few tears. But they might as well have completely disappeared for all Magnus notices them. His vision has narrowed, entire being focused on the man standing before him.

He’s hyperaware of the ring on his left hand, hasn’t been able to stop reverently running his thumb over it since Alec guided it onto his finger only minutes ago. And now, with their hands clasped firmly together the feeling is only amplified, the smooth band pressing comfortingly against his skin. He can feel Alec’s ring too, he realises with a pleasant jolt, the cool metal digging into the sliver of exposed skin at that Alec unerringly zeroes in on as his hand slides under Magnus’ jacket to grip his waist.

A small part of his brain has alarm bells ringing, conjuring memories of Havana. Admittedly, salsa dancing had possibly been a little ambitious for a beginner such as Alexander. But in all fairness, Alec is far more coordinated than he gives himself credit for – it would be impossible for him to be completely out of touch with his body given his warrior training – and when he did manage to relax his sense of rhythm wasn’t half bad, especially once he worked out what to do with his hands. 

As always though, Alec had been his own worst enemy. Magnus would have been content to stumble through it together, intermittent wincing and all, if not for his boyfriend’s mounting distress. Every misstep had sent Alec stuttering with frantic apologies, frustrated tension building and only making his movements less fluid.

It had been so, so worth it though. If for nothing else, then just for the way Alec’s hands had pressed roughly into his hips as Magnus had moved to the music against him and for the vibrant flush that had crept up his neck as Magnus had wrapped a leg around his hip to press them close.

Shaken back into the present by Alec’s thumb caressing gentle circles against his own, Magnus silences the part of himself concerned with self-preservation which whispers that, especially with the added pressure of everyone they care about looking on, this is a hilariously bad idea.

His toes will survive. And honestly, a little bit of bruising is a small price to pay for the pleasure of dancing with his _husband_.

Then Alec pulls Magnus suddenly flush against him and _oh_. His husband is a _menace_.

He’s clearly been practicing, though Magnus can’t think when in the world he would have found the time, stifling actual giggles at the hilarious mental image of Alec spinning across the training room with a reluctant and very uncomfortable Jace.

Magnus can’t believe it, that Alec’s kept this from him and let him believe he was in for a repeat of Havana. Even just a heads-up would have been nice, a quick “hey babe, just warning you that I’m about to shatter your _entire world_.”

Because that’s what he’s done. Magnus was in no way prepared for the sight of Alec, a confident expression on his devastatingly handsome face, holding him in position with perfect technique (though a little closer than is usually conventional). And based on Alec’s poorly hidden smirk, that was exactly the idea. Not that Magnus can talk though; it’s more than likely that Alec’s taking his cues from Magnus’ tendency to downplay his own proficiency in various areas – from pool to hand-to-hand combat – for a competitive edge.

Then Alec starts to move and Magnus is _gone_ , unable to do anything but cling to his husband as he guides them across the floor in smooth circles

Alec’s eyes find Magnus’ as he relaxes into it, focusing less and less on executing the steps and just moving naturally. The look Magnus sees in them makes his heart clench. It’s complete and utter joy, glowing inside him and lighting him up as though he’s been carved from pure adamas.

Powerless to do anything but grin in response, Magnus wonders how on earth Alec ended up such a hopeless romantic. It’s so out of place with what he has seen of shadowhunter culture, and how the Clave’s rigidity and violent repression hasn’t beaten it out of him long ago is beyond Magnus. Although to be fair, between crashing his boyfriend’s political marriage and watching said boyfriend be used as a power play for control of the institute by his ex-Circle parents, what he has seen is probably not an accurate representation of your average shadowhunter family dynamic. And credit to Maryse, she (if no one else) making a definite effort to be better. Although that only really started once she was no longer technically a shadowhunter, so he’s still undecided on whether it counts.

But Alec... Alec is soft in a way Magnus could never have prepared for. In a way that could never be expected given his harsh upbringing. Which isn’t to say that he’s not a formidable warrior; you don’t get to be Head of the Institute by being anything short of fearsome in battle. But here? When he’s staring into Magnus’ eyes, a small smile gentle on his lips, visibly savouring his first dance as a married man?

Here, Alec lets his guard down completely. It still feels like a privilege to be the one lucky enough to see him like this.

Caught up as he is in his introspection, Magnus doesn’t notice the sudden mischief flashing in Alec’s eyes until it’s too late and Alec’s already dipping him, strong hands firms against Magnus’ back. 

By all rights this should feel deeply unsafe, he muses, his entire weight resting on Alec’s hands as he relies on his husband to keep him from crashing to the floor. But it doesn’t. There’s not an ounce of tension or worry in his body as he falls backwards, that ridiculous, borderline irrational trust in Alec that has been present from the very beginning – and only grown since – whispering that Alec won’t let him fall. So he lets Alec dip him low, and the provocative grin Alec sends his way ignites sparks that burrow under Magnus’ skin.

Trust Alec to be competitive even in this, of all things. Trust Magnus to find it way more attractive than he should.

Alec holds him there, smirking as he draws out the moment just long enough that Magnus can feel himself starting to get breathless. The entire situation is distantly familiar, like a memory from another life or the impression of a dream, of the golden morning sun and light-hearted teasing and calloused hands clutching his. The thought quickly slips away as Alec’s lips brush softly against his. Magnus can’t help but arch up slightly, chasing the feeling, and then Alec’s pulling away and pulling Magnus back up against him.

And Alexander calls _him_ a tease.

Not to be outdone, Magnus seizes control of the dance before Alec can react, spinning him out and raising his arm to coax him into a twirl. He half expects it to throw Alec off completely but he takes it in stride, turning neatly with an amused huff, graceful in a way that’s surprising given how tall he is and how awkward it should look as a result. Alec’s hands wrap around his neck as Magnus draws him close again until they’re moving only a few steps each way, rotating slowly in the centre of the floor. He caresses Alec’s hip, inadvertently releasing a spark of magic from his fingertips where they grip tightly, relishing the way his husband shudders against him, a slight hitch in his breath where it puffs against Magnus’ jaw.

It occurs to Magnus, not for the first time, how wonderfully and uncannily in sync Alec is with him. How he can read Magnus’ cues like it’s his native language, where others haven’t even bothered to learn them at all. In fact, Magnus can’t recall it ever being this easy with someone before. Take away the complications of their jobs and the world that’s thrown everything it can in their path, strip it back to just them, and being together is the easiest thing Magnus knows. 

God, he can still barely believe that after decades upon decades of searching and even more wandering aimlessly trying to convince himself it doesn’t matter, that he’s given up, he’s managed to stumble upon _this_. And it’s borderline inconceivable that he gets to have this for the foreseeable future. That he apparently has a hold on Alec that he didn’t have over others (others who couldn’t or wouldn’t stay), a hold that actually matches the strength of the one Alec has on him.

After so many years of heartbreak he’s standing here swaying in the arms of a man who matches him stride for stride, a man who _married him_. 

A man who, in that moment, manages to stumble and step on his foot rather spectacularly.

Wincing, Magnus experiences a moment of confusion. They’re not exactly doing anything ambitious – just swaying gently, foreheads pressed together and breath intermingling. And then it hits him, given away by the subtle feeling of vulnerability he’s aware of if he focuses on it and the awestruck look Alec is giving him as he struggles to regain his balance.

He’s dropped his glamour. And it was enough to make Alec practically trip over his own feet. 

Caught completely off-guard, giddy with the revelation, Magnus can’t help the delighted laugh that bubbles out of him. Alec’s playfully glaring at him and Magnus tries to compose his expression into a look of innocence. It’s a battle he loses spectacularly, shoulders shaking slightly with mirth.

“Not a word,” Alec mumbles, expression an endearing mixture of embarrassment and reluctant amusement.

If Magnus’ hands weren’t already occupied, clutching his husband with no intention of letting go, he’d be sorely tempted to exaggeratedly mime zipping his lips, if only for the impressive eye-roll it would no doubt prompt. He settles for one last snort of laughter before schooling his expression into one of appropriate solemnity, for once passing up the opportunity to poke fun. Partially because he’s pretty sure if Alec gets anymore flustered he’ll just pass out from the sheer volume of blood rushing to his face. Or worse, start overthinking and pull away altogether. Either way, Magnus is not about to let this moment end just yet. 

And partially, because how could he tease Alec about this? Sure, the sudden lack of coordination is objectively hilarious, but Magnus can’t remember anyone in his long history who’d been so delighted by the sight of his real eyes that they’d have this kind of reaction. He’s grown to expect careful neutrality at best (and he’d rather not dwell on the worst). Alec’s utter, unguarded adoration for them is not something he’ll ever get used to.

There’s also the fact that he hadn’t felt the glamour slip away, wouldn’t have noticed if not for Alec’s response. Normally he feels practically naked without it, stripped of all defences in a way that echoes how he’d felt when he lost his magic. He knows he trusts Alec, but this is beyond conscious decision, a centuries-old defence mechanism that apparently now just falls away in his husband’s presence. And that speaks to a level of trust beyond sense or reason, something that he can feel at the very core of his being.

With all those thoughts swirling through his head, Magnus doesn’t think he could speak even if he wanted to, rendered speechless by the impossible depth of feeling Alec never fails to evoke from him. So he doesn’t try. Just draws his husband closer, let’s him hide his still-pink cheeks in Magnus’ shoulder as they sway together, ushering in the beginning of the rest of their life together.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and yell with me on tumblr (@icanthelpbut-love-you)


End file.
